


Virginity

by nanda (nandamai)



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: Backstory, F/M, Faux Victorianese, Ficlet, First Time, Oxford, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-29
Updated: 2013-10-29
Packaged: 2017-12-30 21:31:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1023599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nandamai/pseuds/nanda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Helen gives John a (metaphorical) gift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Virginity

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little vignette. I found it on my hard drive and thought I'd ~~get rid of it~~ share.

The first John saw of her, other than her face and neck, hands and a sliver of silk above a shoe, was her breasts. He had scoped out a quiet, dark corner in one of Oxford's lush gardens, outside New College's walls, a corner guarded by hedgerows and rarely frequented even in daylight. He kissed her face, her neck, Helen returning his favors with much more hunger than women were expected to exhibit. The delicate bone of her clavicle, where he sucked her skin but was careful not to leave a mark; the hollow at the bottom of her neck. 

Helen's hands were on his waist, then his hips, then, damn her, teasingly sliding from hips to stomach, across the band of his trousers. John removed the offending extremities, delighted by her laughter, and bent to worship her ear. Helen shifted, the cloth shifted, and she led his hand to the swell of one breast that she had freed from chemise, corset, and neckline. With the very tips of his fingers he traced from her chin down her soft flesh to her nipple, not daring to look. Finally he raised his head so he could look her in the eyes, which were as devilish and as bright as he'd ever seen them. Below, when he finally allowed himself to see -- with Helen's knuckles again tracing their path from hip to stomach -- her exposed organ was full and pale, spilling awkwardly over the pressure of the whalebones below, her skin reddening with her arousal, the peak pink and stiff. He bent to lay one chaste kiss there, listened to her gasp and her, "Oh, John."

He had seen uncovered breasts before, of course, even women stripped to bare skin, but as his previous experiences had been with prostitutes and time was money, he'd paid little attention to anything but their mounds. With Helen, there was time to touch and lick and kiss, to suck between his teeth, to grasp in the palm of his hand. Even as he did so, he knew that with any other respectable woman, he would be scandalized by such wanton behavior; but with Helen, whose very existence in the laboratories of Oxford was a scandal, who cared not a whit for what strangers thought of her, who saved her wantonness only for him, it was a gift from God. 

Later, of course, after he had teleported her back to her rooms, he had abused himself while thinking of that same breast, wondering if the other was bigger or smaller, wondering what else lay beneath the layers of cotton and silk and wool; hoping but doubting that in those very same rooms, she was doing the same as he.


End file.
